Five Dollars
by aprms
Summary: Nick gets a lot more than he expected for five dollars in a strip club. Loosely based on 3x07 Coach.


**I wrote this after I saw unicornsandrainbows' suggestion of how great it would have been to see Olivia Munn as Angie in 3x07, Coach. Since we're all 99.9% sure that's not gonna happen, I wanted to write it. This isn't necessarily how I think the episode will go down, it's more to satisfy a scenario I would have loved to see in the show. Thanks to Ztofan for betaing this for me!**

Five Dollars

"Hey man, all I'm saying is that you can definitely buy that crap off the shelf in Santa Monica. I saw it with my own eyes."

"Oh, please. Marc Androsciani C E Ferulic SPF 50 serum is not simply made available _anywhere_, Coach. The address of the exclusive website is given to the select few who subscribe to the _Successful Bachelor Weekly_ blog." Schmidt glared at Coach. "I couldn't even begin to tell you how much of a crime against nature and grooming it would be to let any old ruffian get their hands on it."

Coach stared at him, shaking his head as the four men approached the strip club. "I think you got worse since I left."

Nick nodded grumpily. "Since his two girlfriends dumped him he starts to get weird and emotional after 8pm."

"More so than usual," Winston sighed.

Schmidt glared ahead of them, pouting and waving them off with his hand. "Whatever, Trevor. I thought we came out tonight to forget about bitches and get some _hoes_ up in here, am I right?"

Nick swiped a hand over his face, groaning. He shouldn't have come. His argument with Jess over this guy's night out had drained him completely, and he just wanted to kick back with a couple of beers, catch up with Coach and then sleep until mid-afternoon tomorrow. _Running away from his problems_, Winston would have said. Jess would have said it too. Damn know-it-alls.

They entered the club, Nick alternating between a cringe and a deer-in-the-headlights expression as his senses were assaulted from all sides. He could smell sweat and alcohol, and bright strobe lights attacked his tired eyeballs. He rubbed a fist into his eyes, slapping his face a few times to get himself pumped. Schmidt at least thought he needed this, and it was Nick's best friend duty to tag along and make sure he enjoyed himself. Or, if he didn't, to ensure that he didn't have a full-scale meltdown with some college girl in his lap.

They approached the bar, Nick nervously sidestepping scantily clad women with stuttering invitations of "No, after you," and "Oops, sorry, no you go first," feeling sweat start to prickle his forehead. Yep, he really, really should have stayed home. Jess was going to kill him.

Schmidt stepped up to the bar, looked down at it, and decided against resting his arms on the grimy, sticky surface. Instead he bent awkwardly over without touching it, raising four fingers to the bartender. "Four of your finest beverages, sir," he called out, ignoring the funny look the man gave him. He turned back round to the guys, clapping his hands together. "Gentlemen, a toast is in order."

The bartender placed four tumblers of whiskey on the rocks in front of them and they each took one, Nick looking down at the contents and swirling them round thoughtfully. Drinking. Now, he was good at that.

Schmidt raised his glass. "To me, moving on from the women I loved. To a new future, a new life, a-"

"Nope." Coach cut in, annoyed. Winston raised his own glass, looking around at the men in front of him.

"To the return of Coach!" he cried, and Nick and Coach cheered approvingly, clinking their glasses to his and a reluctant Schmidt's. Schmidt tilted his glass up and drained the tumbler, gagging at what Nick presumed to be the low quality of liquor he had been served.

He slammed the glass onto the bar behind him. "Well if no one here is going to appreciate me, I'm going to go and pay a lovely young female to pretend to do so," Schmidt huffed, taking out his wallet and stalking away. Nick watched him go, sighing, before he signaled for another drink.

Fifteen minutes later he was on his fourth whiskey, and feeling incredibly self-conscious, sat alone, at the bar, drinking with the only male member of staff who apparently worked there. Winston and Coach were over by the stage, chatting and occasionally watching the pole dancers. They didn't push Nick to join them, and Nick knew it was because they could practically feel the guilt coming off him. He just couldn't shake the image of Jess' dejected expression as she slammed her bedroom door in his face.

He couldn't believe that _she_ would be the first to show insecurities. He was absolutely crazy about her, and pretty much told her every day since he discovered the art of talking about feelings, or 'talkings' as Nick now liked to refer to it. When he had told her about the strip club she had gone all quiet the way women did when they were seriously pissed but expected the man to know exactly what was up and fix it immediately, even though they clearly state that it is "nothing". _What's wrong? Nothing. Nothing is wrong. Why would you think there could possibly be anything wrong? _And then that's it, no sex for you until you solve the puzzle that is the XX chromosome.

He grumbled into his drink, feeling the warm effects of the alcohol start to pleasantly swathe him. Jess would be at Clyde's by now, with Cece. He hoped she wasn't on the pink wine.

The guy behind the bar had been talking to one of the girls on the opposite side, and Nick wasn't paying any attention until she suddenly gasped and ducked away, leaving the bartender yelling after her, arms out either side of him. Nick glanced up curiously just as she turned to look back at him, her face panicked. _Holy shit_, he thought as their eyes met.

Angie.

Freaking Angie. Of _course._

She abruptly whipped her head back round, scuttling away to the other side of the room by the plush couches, tray in hand. Nick narrowed his eyes, pushing himself into a standing position. The _nerve_ she had, coming in here… wait. No, that was wrong. This wasn't his bar. How many whiskeys had he had, exactly?

He squared his shoulders and marched over to her, a man on a mission. Just as she placed some drinks down on a nearby table and straightened up, he rounded on her. "Hey, I'd like to buy a dance please," he said sharply, taking out the wallet Jess had bought for him. Angie looked down at it, stunned.

"I'm actually not-" she started to say, wide-eyed, but Nick cut her off, raising his hand.

"Are you or are you not contractually obligated to dance with me if I ask?" he said smugly, digging around for some cash. He frowned, bringing out a crumpled bill and staring at it, slightly unfocused. "I have five dollars. You better dance with me, lady." He said, waving it in her face.

Angie raised her eyebrows, about to tell Nick where he could stick his five dollars, but decided against it. She guessed this day would come eventually.

She sighed, taking the money from him and tipping her head towards the rear of the room, where a heavy velvet curtain presumably covered the entrance to the back area. Nick swallowed nervously, suddenly unsure of his decision as they made their way over. His fears were only made worse once they were alone in the room, bathed in deep red light, Angie pushing him down on to a questionable looking couch.

Nick sobered up considerably as Angie climbed into his lap. "No," he snapped, pushing her away. "You and I both know I don't really want a dance."

She sighed, placing her hands on her bare hips. "I know, but there are security cameras in here you know. I could get fired if they thought I wasn't doing my job, Nick."

"I'm with someone," he replied, scowling at her. She looked a little shocked.

"And you're _here_? You came to a strip club?"

"Schmidt wanted to come."

Angie smirked, nodding. She understood. "Well, what did you pay five dollars for?"

Nick folded his arms. "I want closure, Angie. I can't keep…" he trailed off, taking a deep breath. "I'm not good at relationships, I know that. But you just up and _left_."

Angie bit her lip, unable to meet his eyes. He glared at her. "You left that stupid note and you were gone, poof."

He did a poof gesture with his hands, and then made a mental note to rein it in a little. The whiskey was obviously still very much in his system.

"I'm sorry." Angie replied, looking like she meant it. "I'm not good at relationships either. I didn't know what to do, everything got so real all of a sudden." She removed her hands from her hips and lowered herself on to the seat beside Nick, apparently no longer concerned about losing her job. Nick sighed and ran a hand over his face for what felt like the millionth time.

"I really want it to work this time. I need it to work. She means everything to me." Nick felt Angie stiffen a little next to him, but pushed on with his talkings. "I've been left, ignored, given up on. I don't know whether I have enough emotion left to make Jess happy, the way she deserves. You know, complete."

Angie leaned away from him. "Wait, did you say Jess?"

Nick looked at her, as if just noticing that she was there. "Huh?" he asked, his brain a little foggy. Angie laughed, throwing her head back and rolling her eyes to the ceiling.

"Of course! How did I not…" she laughed again, to herself. "God Nick, I thought you looked way into it when I wanted to swap! That's why I thought it was okay!"

Nick scoffed at her. "Alright. First of all, stuff like that isn't okay. Second, none of that matters now. I want to know why you left, so I can move on and be with Jess."

Angie stood up again, frustrated. "I've told you already."

"Well that wasn't a good enough explanation!"

"Fine! I left because it didn't feel like two people hooking up any more, it felt _real_ Nick. And that scared me more than anything else, because I've never had that before."

Nick gripped his knees, angling his face towards her. "Then why didn't you have the decency to say goodbye at least?! I woke up to a damn piece of paper." He growled.

"I don't know," she groaned, scratching her arm, worry etched into her features. "When things get tough I run away."

Her words hit Nick like a brick to the face. He stared at her, instantly reminded of Winston's pep talk to him before he ran out to make Jess his own. He was so glad he made that decision. God, she was such an incredible woman.

Nick stood up too. "When things get tough you should stay." He said simply, grasping her arms and looking at her properly. "That's when everything starts to turn out really, really amazing." He let the first smile of the night creep on to his face. "Trust me."

Angie stared at him, speechless. He let go of her, stepping back, making a decision. "My five dollars are up. I gotta go." He brushed past her, turning back as he gripped the curtain, pulling it to the side. "Good luck with everything Angie."

With that, he left his ex-girlfriend motionless in the back room, striding purposefully through the club towards the exit. He knew how he felt. He knew what he had to do.

* * *

"…And then he said, "Jessica, what's wrong?" I mean, what's _wrong_?! What a stupid thing to ask, is it not blindingly obvious what's wrong? I'm your girlfriend and you're going to a goddamn strip club where girls called Candy and Sexpants grope you and call you Daddy."

Jess took in a deep breath. Whew, that rant took a lot out of her. She quickly downed the rest of her wine, willing the blush to leave her cheeks. She placed her glass on the table, noticing the man opposite, looking at her expectantly. He had been staring at her, and now realized he was supposed to say something. He cleared his throat, leaning forward and shooting her a killer smile. "Wow, he sounds like the worst."

"Ugh, I just…" she trailed off, throwing her hands in the air. "He drives me crazy."

The man opposite her placed a warm hand on her wrist, stilling her actions. Jess looked up at him in surprise, raising her eyebrows. He was impossibly handsome, and well-dressed too. What was his name again? _Argh, who cares, he's cute and he's a great distraction_.

"By the way, I don't think strippers call themselves Sexpants. You might be a little confused."

Jess laughed, swatting his chest. A wave of flirtatiousness swept over her and she quickly pushed it down. Her thoughts drifted to Nick, in a dark, seedy room with some random chick's gumbo pot in his face. She scowled, physically shaking her head to rid herself of the image.

"You know," Handsome Man said lowly as he leaned into her, "If you need me to make you feel better, I can do that." He grinned at her. Jess leaned back, momentarily caught up in how incredibly sleazy he sounded. She frowned, all traces of her previous giddiness gone.

"You know I have a boyfriend, he's all I've been talking about." She said, slightly annoyed. The man - Artie? Marty? Ah, hell, who knew - was looking at her in anticipation. He thought she was going to agree to it. She felt ill all of a sudden.

"What the hell, Jess?"

Jess' head whipped round to see Nick hovering over their table, looking slightly ruffled as he gestured angrily toward them. Jess opened and closed her mouth, at a loss for words. She felt unexpectedly embarrassed and guilty to be caught in this situation, even though the idea that she would EVER cheat on Nick was totally absurd to her. She was absolutely infatuated with her boyfriend. He was everything to her. Surely he knew that?

Nick was continuing to glare at her, waiting for answers. She abruptly stood up. "What happened to your guy's night?" she asked, a hint of spite seeping into her voice.

"It was a bust. Why are you in a booth with a stranger, holding hands?"

"We weren't holding _hands_, Nicholas."

"Sure looked like it to me."

Jess let out a huge breath, rolling her eyes. "I apologize for wanting to go out and have fun while my boyfriend gets ridden like a pole," she snapped, slamming her hand down on to the table. Artie/Marty started to slink away, not wanting to spend his Friday night in the obvious crapstorm that was about to go down.

Nick laughed unkindly at her. "Is that what you think happened? You think I'd do that to you?"

"You think I'd do this to _you_?" Jess shot back, folding her arms across her chest. When Nick said nothing, she exhaled exasperatedly, rolling her head back and starting to walk away, heading for the door. Nick followed her.

"Jess, we need to talk about this."

"God Nick, I never thought I'd say this but sometimes your talkings kind of make me want to punch you in the face."

Nick caught her elbow as they stepped out into the warm breeze in the smoker's area. The few stragglers outside soon disappeared when they saw the fire in Nick and Jess' eyes. They squared off, frowning at each other. "Look Jess, Angie gave me a dance, and-"

"_WHAT?!_" came Jess' loud shout, as her mouth dropped open in complete horror. Nick slapped a hand to his forehead, quickly backtracking.

"Okay, that came out wrong, she didn't actually do anything, she just took me into the back room…"

"Are you kidding me right now, Nicholas?!"

"No, God no Jess, that's not right either, well it is but…we just talked, and it got me thinking…"

"I can't BELIEVE you!" Jess hissed, tears starting to prick her eyes. "Your ex-girlfriend, Nick? How could you do this to me? I've been rambling on about you all night to that damn stranger, I don't even know his name!"

Nick shut his mouth, staring at her. Jess felt a wave of emotion pass over her, and knew now was the time to say what she wanted to say. "When you asked me what was wrong, I should have told you, I'm sorry. I didn't want you to go, I don't want you to look at other girls in their panties, I want you to only have eyes for my panties. Unless I'm having a fat day, and then I'd rather you stayed on your side of the couch, if you know what I mean-"

"Off topic Jess," Nick interrupted, the hint of a grin on his face. Jess nodded hastily.

"Yeah, okay. Anyway, I want to be the woman you want in your lap every night, I want you to be the man holding my hand, I want…I," she stuttered, a lump forming in the back of her throat. "I want everything with you, Nick."

Nick was really grinning now, that insanely cute grin of his. Jess took a deep breath, willing her heart to stop beating so fast. It was now or never. "Nick," she breathed. "I lov-"

"NO!"

Nick leapt forward with the grace and speed of a gazelle, albeit a somewhat drunk one, and clamped a hand over Jess' mouth. Jess drew back in alarm, fighting the urge to scream. She didn't, thinking that perhaps in the long run that would be a pretty bad idea, considering their current position. She did, however, bite down hard on his palm.

Nick grimaced, pulling his hand away with a cry of agony.

"What the hell, man?!" Jess snapped as he clutched his wounded hand to his chest. "I was trying to tell you something import-"

"I love you."

Jess shut up. Her breath caught in her throat, and for a moment she forgot to breathe. What was happening? He loved her? Wait, he'd beaten her to it. What a jackass! Huh. She felt her face break out into a delighted grin. He loved her though!

Nick was smiling at her through his pain. "I wanted to say it first, Jess, that's why I pretty much ran all the way here. I don't want you to always love more and feel more and say more. I'm done with liking you. I freaking _love_ you, woman."

Jess laughed, squeezing her watery eyes shut and letting his words float about in her head for a few seconds. When she opened them, he was directly in front of her, staring into them. "I love you too Nick. I really, really love you," she said, beaming, barely holding back giggles. Nick's smile practically reached his ears.

"I love you more."

"I don't think so."

"I do."

"Hmm. No."

"Yes."

"Ugh, Nick!" Jess cried, slapping his arm and pretending to be annoyed. "We are not doing this."

Nick's eyes sparkled as he pursed his lips. Then his arms were around her waist and the horrible day was forgotten as he picked her up, ignoring her squeals of protest. She wrapped her arms around his neck as they laughed together, Jess' face meeting Nick's for a clumsy, ecstatic kiss as they spun round, a little tipsily, drunk on wine and whiskey and love.


End file.
